Tuesday, September 11, 2012

to love or to be loved



If you could either be loved or love someone, but not both, which would you choose?

I related to this post because I tend to have crushes on straight guys who will never love me the way I love them. But in my case that's a blessing since I am a bisexual man married to a woman. 

Sometimes life seems like Send in the Clowns. My wife loved me in a way I couldn't fully love her in return. I have loved some straight men who can't fully love me. But I tell myself I am blessed to have love in my life. I am blessed to be able to love both men and women. And sometimes I believe it.

Send in the Clowns
by Stephen Sondheim

Isn't it rich?
Are we a pair?
Me here at last on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the clowns.

Isn't it bliss?
Don't you approve?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can't move.
Where are the clowns?
Send in the clowns.

Just when I'd stopped
Opening doors,
Finally knowing
The one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again
With my usual flair,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.

Don't you love farce?
My fault, I fear.
I thought that you'd want what I want -
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
Quick, send in the clowns.

What a surprise.
Who could foresee
I'd come to feel about you
What you'd felt about me?
Why only now when i see
That you'd drifted away?
What a surprise.
What a cliché.

Isn't it rich?
Isn't it queer?
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don't bother - they're here.

Monday, September 10, 2012

from seriously depressed to feeling good


Over at  http://mohofosho.blogspot.com/  Gay Sacramento Mormon Guy is unhappy enough to have tried to end his life. I remember feeling about that a decade ago. Here's what I wrote to him. I hope it gives him some perspective. I hope it gives you some perspective...

When I was suicidal I found a helpful book. It was so helpful I wrote this review of it on Amazon. I hope it can help you, too.

This review is from: Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy (Mass Market Paperback)

I'd seen this book before. I'd browsed through it back in 1991 and didn't find anything profound, but I wasn't seriously depressed at the time either. In June 2001 it was a different story. I'd been feeling suicidal since April. I was away from home on business and considered ending it all in a Minneapolis hotel room, but didn't want my wife have the hassle of shipping my body 1,000 miles back home.
I forced myself to take a walk and saw "Feeling Good" in a nearby bookstore. "What the hell," I thought, "for less than $10 this is worth a try." Back in my hotel room I took the depression test and scored 64 - severe depression. I read much of the book that night, took the self-test again the next day and scored in the 40s. With a 20 point drop in less than 24 hours, I again had hope. I got home, got counseling, got medication.

Although I was still depressed, it was less severe and I wasn't as suicidal. In July of 2001 I bought "Ten Days to Self Esteem" and went from a depression score of 25 to 17 in ten days of doing the written exercises everyday. It took about 9 months but with exercise, meds, counseling, support from friends and family, and the perspective offered by the events of that September 11, I started getting scores showing very little depression, much less anxiety and better relationships. Burns' approach has been an important part of that process for me.

(The book is still in print and is probably also available in your public library. Heck, I'll mail you my beat up copy I like.)

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Shaving: Chore or Affirmation?

I quite like the idea of writing daily again. Actually daily pages as suggested in the book The Artist’s Way. The idea is to just do a mind dump first thing in the morning. I liked the idea when I read it yesterday, but I didn’t really prepare for it. I should get my laptop all set up on a clean desk with it opened to a word processing program and just be ready to ease out of bed, open the cover and go. But today I at least thought about it. I got up to pee and then while I was downstairs decided to shave, but didn’t shower. Came back up and cleaned off my desk and opened this document and here we go.

Which brings me to the question of shaving. Do you enjoy it? Why or why not? How often do you shave? How do you shave? Razor? Electric? Where and when? Before showering, after showering. In the car on the way to work? What do you think about when you shave? Do you ever look in the mirror and tell yourself, "Man I'm lucky to be alive. Lucky to have whiskers and a razor and hot water. Lucky that I don't live in the age of straight razors where I could do some major damage to this handsome mug." Do you talk to yourself and enjoy the moment in the mirror, or is a more of a chore. Sure, you're using the mirror but only to see to shave, none of this introspective, self-talk, affirmation bs. 

Oh, and to go along with the amazing Steve Walker painting, have you ever been shaved someone else or been shaved by someone else? I'll confess it's happened to me three times. Once by a nursing student who had an assignment to shave a man. I was that lucky man. And twice in a barber's chair. I did it to do it, but unless I really like the barber, probably won't do it again. 

Ok and one last thing for you, Duck. I realize I've written this from a man's point of view, but I'm also interested in the female shaving or non-shaving experience. Every once in a while I'll find a razor in the shower and know that a daughter has decided to get rid of her stubble. If you'd care to weigh in on these questions, please do. 

Monday, August 13, 2012

David Rakoff, my radio buddy


David Rakoff died last Thursday. I didn’t realize until then how much I liked him. But now, I’m searching for online appreciations, for YouTube videos, and looking forward, much more than I think I ever have before, to listening to This American Life this weekend which will feature a full hour with a man, I realize now, was my friend and an advocate of my writing, my coming out, my being myself.

Why couldn’t I realize that while he was alive, so I could have at least written him some fan mail? And said, “Thank you for speaking the truth in such a humorous way. Thank you for being out, but not being out and proud so much as being out and just your genuine neurotic self. Thank you for sharing that talented, caring and cynical self with the world. You made my world better because you were here.”

If I’d have known it would have been my only chance to actually meet him, I’d have probably hung around trying to get an autograph when he appeared at Kingsbury Hall a few years ago. But I didn’t know he was going to die, and I didn’t know how much really liked him until last Thursday, until it was too late.

Or is it? I haven’t read his books. They’re no different now than they were when he was alive. And if I really believe my religion, I’ll see David again. Who knows maybe he’s already met my mom and dad and stepdad and grandparents. Maybe they’ve told him what I could not, “Our bisexual son and grandson, really appreciated you. Your voice on the radio kept him company on a lot of weekends.”

And maybe it’s not too late to learn once again to value people here and now. And, maybe, just maybe, if you love someone, to tell them. Face-to-face.

If you don’t know of David, here’s his Wikipedia bio. And here's a vid of him talking about the difficult process of writing. If you’re interested in hearing more, catch This American Life this weekend.

As I think of David, I find myself hearing an old Bob Dylan song:

While riding on a train goin’ west

I fell asleep for to take my rest

I dreamed a dream that made me sad

Concerning myself and the first few friends I had

With half-damp eyes I stared to the room

Where my friends and I spent many an afternoon

Where we together weathered many a storm

Laughin’ and singin’ till the early hours of the morn

By the old wooden stove where our hats was hung

Our words were told, our songs were sung

Where we longed for nothin’ and were quite satisfied

Talkin’ and a-jokin’ about the world outside

With haunted hearts through the heat and cold

We never thought we could ever get old

We thought we could sit forever in fun

But our chances really was a million to one

As easy it was to tell black from white

It was all that easy to tell wrong from right

And our choices were few and the thought never hit

That the one road we traveled would ever shatter and split

How many a year has passed and gone

And many a gamble has been lost and won

And many a road taken by many a friend

And each one I’ve never seen again

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain

That we could sit simply in that room again

Ten thousand dollars at the drop of a hat

I’d give it all gladly if our lives could be like that

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Why do I blog?



A FaceBook thread asks these three questions:

Why do you blog?

I blog for myself, for the discipline of writing for others, to create record of my thoughts, and to address an imaginary person who may or may not become a real person in my life. I also enjoy getting immediate feedback and sometimes delayed feedback when someone finds and comments on something I've written months or years ago.

Do you blog in "real time" (posting current thoughts immediately as they happen, in "tape delay" (waiting a few days or weeks before posting), or both - and why?

My blog is a mix of real time and delay. I try to proof each entry before I push the publish button, but often don't find a typo or some other needed edit, until I do hit publish, sometimes immediately and sometimes much later. On occasion, I will quote from my personal journal, recycling something that seems appropriate. Why? I guess it's because my editor role and my writer roles are somewhat in conflict. As I writer I just want to get it out. As an editor, I care about how it reads. The editor is sometimes the enemy of the writer.

If you stopped blogging, why? 

Still blogging away, although not as frequently as I used to.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Oops - Wow



Oops, I forgot to post this here after I finished it on Tuesday morning. But I can tell you this: one Facebook viewer gave it a wow. See what you think:

Sunday, July 22, 2012

knowing he cares


I found an old notebook journal as I was cleaning my room yesterday. It bears out some of the angst and hope expressed in my recent video. Here’s an entry from Sunday, June 16, 1991:


I’m sitting on the front porch now and there is a hauntingly beautiful sunset that has made the sky a kind of crimson/violet that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before and may never see again. This is how the days of a child’s life are. They are so beautiful. They are one moment in time never to be seen again. And yet they are also as numerous as sunsets and sunrises -- but are we watching ready to savor how unique these gifts of moments are?  Or are we too busy?


Yes, tonight I am supposed to be writing sales letters. Well they will have to wait until tomorrow. The wind is blowing. They other night it stormed. I thought of what Gibran said about storms and how you can feel the power of God in them.


Now neighbors are beginning to turn lights on and the intensity of that purple is slowly fading. I must have shivered a couple of dozen times today. It happened when the priests covered the sacrament table and just now when I thought of  Don. 


My feelings for Don are changing. They’re still very much in the forefront of my mind, and yet there’s a greater easiness there. There’s an intensity that’s brought on through depth and solidly knowing he cares, not so much by my admiring him--although I still do very much--it is now as if I can see him for the man he is, with many good traits, but not perfect. I’d like to talk with him tonight, but not enough to call after I know he’s had a long drive home from St. George.


I’m still trying to deal honestly with my wife. I’m trying to level with her about my frustration and confusion about her feelings for me. I can’t put aside my faith that things will work out. But I do long for a resumption of relations, and when I dwell on that loss it really leaves me feeling down and feeling pretty sorry for myself. But I must have faith. It is so much of what life is about. I can’t let all of the efforts so far just give way to defeat and cynicism.


The sky is still light but now that light is fading. Most of the light I’m writing by is from porch bulb. The kids are with their mom and grandparents. I am alone except for the dear cat. It has been a good weekend. Sure it was tough emotionally yesterday afternoon but it wasn’t a wasted day. I enjoyed mowing the lawn in beautiful weather. I have much to be grateful for.







Wednesday, July 4, 2012

A Limerick for Duck



A writer named Duck has a blog
That helps me see out of the fog
Because she is kind
Some peace I can find
Some days are then less of a slog


Thanks to Duck and Beck for comments on my earlier post of a video about "some of my experiences growing up, dating, coming out, dealing with depression, averting suicide and trying to put it all in perspective." 


Both Duck and Beck's comments had the feeling of a big hug. Then I got this feedback on Facebook that also took the form of an embrace:

 (((((((((((Ned)))))))))) THAT WAS INCREDIBLE. I was so moved. I can't even tell you. 
It's true that sometimes we can't put into words what we're feeling. Which is kind of what I feel now. Happy July 4th.



Sunday, March 11, 2012

Happy and Dark Thoughts

I responded to a Facebook post this morning with this statement: "Sorry to hear you've been feeling lonely and longing for a relationship. Totally agree that it is no fun...Here's something you can try that might open up your thinking. Write the letters A-Z down the left hand side of sheet of paper. Fold it in half. Label the first column happy thoughts and the 2nd column gloomy thoughts. Then try to come up with a word or phrase or even sentence starting with each letter. It's just a way of affirming what you like or long for and also getting the dark stuff out on paper. It's helped me many times. Of course your mileage may vary. But if you give it a try let us know what you think. Hugs and good luck."

Then I decided to take my own advice and here's the list:

a - awesome / awful
b - beauty / bad breath
c - companionship / craziness
d - dependability / discrimination
e - elegance / extreme disorganization
f - funny, fun-loving people / frustration
g - green grass, freshly cut / gangrene, needing amputation
h - hello, people who say hello to you / hell, when it's a hell of a day
i - innovation, cool new stuff / insincerity, fake stuff
j - jelly, jam and buttered toast / junk that's just clutter
k - kin who are kind / kin that don't accept you
l - love, especially the unconditional kind  / leaders who are abusive
m - men who are kind and caring / men who are jerks
n - nature that nurtures, a sunny day / nature that kills, a tornado
o - opportunities that lift / oppression that crushes
p - pretty stuff, see beauty above / petty people who piss you off
q - quality that counts / quality that's just an empty word
r - recreation with loved ones and friends / rejection
s - security / stupidity
t - trust and trees / too tired, the state of being
u - understanding / underfunding
v - victory, when you get a great win / valentines, never received
w - wonderful moments, fresh and remembered / wonderbread, stale
x - marking the spot of a treasure / when you didn't want it to end
y - you make me feel so young, Sinatra / yikes, Scoobee-Doo
z - zoos and z's, snoozing / z's not enough, as in sleep deprivation

Do I feel better? Somewhat. I thought of some positives I wouldn't have otherwise. But the same is true of the negatives. On balance, though, a good exercise in counting blessings and exploring reality. I guess another things that works about this for me is finding connections. It's easy to be black and white and just find opposites. There's a place for that. But it's also great just to riff and have fun with it.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Night of Promise

When I asked her to the dance, I did not know how long the night would be. I promised her father that I would return her safely to her home. The night is not over. We've danced together several times, but not like some couples who seem to be having the time of their lives. So we've tried to make the best of this evening. She's danced with all of our children and grandchildren. So have I. She has danced with extended family, school, career and church. So have I. She has not danced with any other men or women and I have not danced with any other women or men. But I have stood alone and watched so many others enjoying the dance. I have talked with a few other men off the dance floor. We have had some wonderful conversations. Mostly my wife has stood alone. Or helped others. The dance is not over. My wife and I, although both distracted, are still on our date. My promise to return her safely to her father still echoes in my mind. Sometimes overshadowing even the best music I've ever heard.


(This is yet another blog entry inspired by Beck. Here's what he wrote that got me thinking.)

Friday, January 20, 2012

a man and amen

I was just re-reading a blog post I made two Decembers ago. I'm going to repost it here and add in my current thoughts:


Dear Heavenly Parents,


Thank you for sending me the man of my dreams. I loved him when I first saw him and I still love him today more than a decade later. This summer it will be 12 years, wow! Sometimes I feel frustrated that he doesn't love me the way I love him, but in my saner moments I realize there is wisdom in pairing me, a bisexual man who is a married father, with another married father who is straight. He is also kind and his kindness shines through in so many ways the longer I know him.
Yes, I sometimes wonder what our lives would be like if both of our wives died or divorced us, but I strongly suspect that my man would soon find himself dating women and would soon find himself in love with one and remarried. The same could happen with me I suppose, although maybe you've got another man of my dreams in store for me somewhere in the future and maybe this one is gay, or at least bisexual. As time passes though, I think I've become more realistic. It is a blessing to be married, and it is a blessing to have a such a good married friend. When he says, "I'd like to do that, but I can't this time because I promised my wife I'd..." we both understand we have other priorities, which also makes the time we are together memorable. 
But maybe this is as good as it gets and if that's the case, that's OK. Not just OK but great, really. I waited more than 40 years for you to place this jewel along my path and I realize that this may be it. Thank you for our many days and years together. He is so much more than an amethyst remembrance. He is real. He is alive. I stood by his side and enjoyed his laughter this very day and the day I'm writing the addendum as well. You've also given me the opportunity to be married to a wonderful woman and for us to be parents of wonderful children. She is alive. She is real. She is only a few yards away, resting her mind and her bones after a busy Monday at work. She's been out of town for a few days as I add these thoughts and I'm so glad to be with her again, so glad she's returned safely to our home. She is my friend, confidant, wife, mother of our children. I would not be the man I am, if she were not in my life. I love her as much as a man in my situation could love his wife and I know she loves me to the best of her ability given our circumstances.
You've blessed me so abundantly with the ability to love both men and women, to find some of my brothers and sisters here intriguing, mysterious and beautiful. You've blessed me with so much more, with wonderful teachers, neighbors, friends and extended family. I'm also grateful for the ability to find beauty in small things, like a smile, a "thank you", a "please", a Facebook "like", and the comments on this blog. 
You've blessed me with good health, with strength, with the ability to endure uncertainty. You've blessed me with a love of music, nature, art, food, sunshine and snow, darkness and light, fireworks, fireflies and fire itself. You blessed me to be able to notice and appreciate nature and human nature, the cold and the warmth, the extremes of summer and winter and the perfect days of transition in spring and fall. 
I've had a good life full of challenges and rewards. Certainly there is more good ahead, but sometimes on a cold winter night like tonight, I'd be just fine if I didn't wake up. Isn't that crazy? I know it is. It's irrational but understandable. I think I've grown a little more patient with myself since I wrote this. A little more tolerant of my changing moods. A little more aware that if I'm discouraged, encouragement is just around the corner, and vice versa. 
I have more to do. Children to be married. Grandchildren to be spoiled, to read with, to laugh with, to sing with, to color with, two swing with, to put on my shoulders, to run through the sprinklers in the summer, and zip into a winter coat when it's snowing, to lift in and out of high chairs, to buckle into a car seat and kiss on the forehead. To realize how much capacity I have to love and how I must have been loved as child and grandchild. I have a tender, strong, dear, intelligent, kind, loving, independent, talented, giving, patient wife to grow old with. 
And a married friend who I miss when I haven't seen him for three days. Someone who makes me smile just by thinking about him. Someone I probably stand too close to sometimes. Someone I bump into when we're walking together and when our hands touch just for a fraction of second, I know and wonder if he does too. Someone who is married to a woman he loves. But someone who enjoys his brothers, his buddies, his independence. Someone who is so comfortable in his own skin, that when I'm with him I'm somehow comfortable in mine. All just as true now as it was when I first wrote it. 
Why should I need someone else to feel this way? Because I'm human. We are social animals. Or as Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote (and Neal Maxwell quoted) "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience but spiritual beings having a human experience." I shouldn't. And I don't always. But when I'm with my man, this magic just happens. It's as natural as sunshine. The magic remains as does the warmth. It's human, it's spiritual, it's almost as tangible as a warm shower or a favorite sweat shirt just out of the dryer, and I know I'm alive when I feel it.
I'm glad that somehow we crossed paths (probably part of some great plan you two cooked up, eh?) and that our friendship has endured. I'm glad I came across that great quote from Albert Camus, "In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer." I'm glad I still know that, and that I know it even more deeply now. Thank you for all these blessings and others I can't even imagine. 
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. 

Thursday, January 19, 2012

the illusive third way



Congratulations to Beck who has been out to his wife seven years and recently had a Capraesque moment with his wife. It certainly is relevant to those in mixed orientation marriages and helps put my couple of decades of being out to my wife in perspective. 

My three decade marriage to the female love of my life is wonderful and difficult. My decade of friendship with the male love of my life is also filled with wonder and challenge. 

I have sought an illusive third way as I know Beck and many others have. Perhaps we find it without knowing it, by keeping covenants yet seeking to embrace our full identity as same gender loving men married to remarkable women, as fathers, sons, brothers and friends, as men of faith and doubt.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

A Thank You to the Reader I Don't Know

I want you to know how grateful I am for you in my life. We’ve had some great times together on this little planet. I haven't met you yet, and you've only met me here and perhaps through Facebook, but still we are here on the same planet at the same time and that's something to celebrate. It is amazing to me that although I don't know you, you can read what I've written here. What remarkable thing. It certainly wouldn't be a likely without technology. Yes I could put a note in a bottle and toss in the Great Salt Lake, I suppose. But even the note in a bottle takes the technology of writing and bottle making. And the risk of writing and being read. 


Thanks for our remarkable friendship. One that exists only here and in that mysterious space of not quite real but more real the more I think about it. Someday, if we do meet, things will probably be different. I will instantly be more than the writer of words and you will instantly be more than the reader of them. We will connect, perhaps only for a moment. And you or I will say, or perhaps we will both say, "not what I had in mind" and then we will continue on our separate paths. But what if it's not like that? What if I say wow and what if you say wow. What if we conclude that there is more that we're interested in. Even though it may be unlikely, what if it is a mutual wow?


Then what do we do? Since it is not likely to happen I'm not going to worry about it. But by telling myself that I'm just trying to buy myself some peace. Because the truth is that if at this time in my life if I found someone I really liked and had the potential of loving and if that person really liked and saw a potential to love me, too, it would be both wonderful and terrible. Wonderful that such a thing not only could but did happen. Terrible that if such a thing did happen, I would have to leave a zone I've felt comfortable in for many years. But then again I've not been entirely comfortable or I wouldn't be writing this. Well, there you go. Probably one of my stranger entries on this blog, but good to say nonetheless. Thanks for reading. Even by not commenting, you've giving me the potential for peace. I hope I can take advantage of that gift and I thank you for giving it, whether or not you intended to do so.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

a moho haiku and a question about friendships

I love my buddy
His smile brings me joy
A blessing of male

Throughout much of my life, I've been frustrated by the lack of reciprocity in many of my male relationships. I expected more than most straight men could authentically give and because of my own homophobia I was unwilling to explore opportunities for friendship with gay or bisexual men. Given this background I'm so grateful when there is reciprocity with a male friend.

Just before Thanksgiving, I felt inspired to make a simple thank you card and give it to one of my friends. Yesterday he reciprocated. Not with a card but with an early Christmas present. Maybe that's not reciprocal  but it was a wonderful surprise. Now I'm smiling as I think about some modest but meaning present I can give to him.

I'm curious about the friendships you have with straight males. Do you seek out these friendships? And do you exchange gifts at Christmastime?

Sunday, September 4, 2011

The Newspaper Article that Changed My Life

Thursday, May 3, 1990, Deseret News

Going straight? New therapy may help gay men, women later sexual orientation - but it faces a way of opposition

In the 1970s, when gay men began coming out of their closets, Bill went deeper into his. It was one of those perfectly constructed closets, framed by marriage and children and a profession full of serious men in suits.
   
Way in the back of the closet, though, where nobody could see, he was living another life, sometimes having sex with as many as three men a day.But all that is over now, he says. Thanks to a new therapy, he says, he isn't gay anymore. He calls it ``coming out of homosexuality.''
    `
`It's like Martin Luther King said,'' Bill explains. ``You know, `Free at last! Free at last!' Now I'm able to pass a man on the street and say, `Isn't he a nice-looking man. Good for him.' And keep on walking.''
   
You don't Have to Be Gay,'' says the brochure Bill holds in his hand announcing an upcoming conference at the University of Utah. The conference, ``Developing a Healthy Male Identity,'' is sponsored by a Salt Lake group called the Evergreen Foundation.
   
The theory that you can change your sexual orientation, and that homosexuality is unhealthy, is the cornerstone of Evergreen, whose membership is composed of men and women who classify themselves as ``former'' homosexuals and lesbians.
   
Most have, within the past couple of years, undergone a controversial therapy based on the work of Elizabeth R. Moberly, a British research psychologist who published ``Homosexuality: A New Christian Ethic'' in 1983. Her theory has also given birth to other Evergreen-type groups in California and several other states.
   
It's a theory that touches deep nerves in Utah, where gays and their families struggle to understand sexual yearnings that run against the grain of conservative values.
   
It also touches nerves in Salt Lake City's gay community, which classifies Evergreen and its upcoming conference as misleading, unethical and dangerous.
   
At the heart of the controversy are unresolved questions about the causes _ and the meaning _ of sexual identity.
   
Tom Pritt, a Kaysville psychologist, had been working with homosexuals for years when he came across Elizabeth Moberly's ``Homosexuality: A New Christian Ethic.'' In it he found confirmation of conclusions he had come to during hundreds of hours of therapy sessions.
   
Homosexuality, says Pritt, is not really about sex but about love. It's not about a man's inability to find women appealing but about his inability to form a ``normal'' bond with other men.
   
Most of the men he has treated, says Pritt, had similar backgrounds: fathers who were absent or distant; a feeling of inferiority to male peers; a feeling of being out of sync with typical male interests and abilities. On the one hand they felt a need for male love; on the other hand, afraid of rejection, they distanced themselves from traditional relationships with other men.
   
All men and women, says Pritt, have a need to feel close to and to feel accepted by members of their same sex. When a boy who has not felt that kind of bonding reaches puberty, that same-sex love need can become confused and eroticized. What he really desires is male closeness; what he thinks he wants is sex with another man.
   
Basically what this theory holds is that the whole thing is just a big mistake. A case of mistaken identity, or as Pritt puts it, ``incomplete identity.'' Inside, the theory holds, gay men are really heterosexuals who would be attracted to women if they just finished their emotional development _ by learning how to act in healthy ways around men.
   
Gay men can change through therapy, says Pritt, but not the typical aversion therapy tried in the past. Gay men can change, he says, but not simply by being counseled to get married.
   
Jim used to cruise Sugarhouse Park. Or he would hang around Liberty Park or walk through Crossroads Mall, hoping, with a lingering glance, to make a connection with another man.
   
That was after 18 years of marriage and a divorce, after he had sat in a therapist's office and trembled inside when he was asked to face the fact that three decades of fantasizing about men meant that he was gay.
   
``I didn't want to be gay,'' Jim remembers. ``Because of society, more than anything. And because I had children and I didn't want to explain that to them. And I didn't know how to act in that (gay) world. I hated that swishy style.''
   
Asked to explore his feelings, Jim finally decided that ``if I was gay, I'd be the best darn gay guy there ever was.'' He threw all his energies into finding the perfect man.
   
``At first it's intoxicating. Then it's addicting. . . . But it never was fulfilling,'' he says. ``You can't have fulfillment with another man. But the gay community doesn't want to hear that.''
   
And then, in 1988, someone gave him a copy of what at Evergreen they refer to as ``the gray book'' _ ``You Don't Have to Be Gay,'' by J.A. Konrad, a California man who describes himself as ``an EX-gay.''
   
``I read it in two afternoons,'' says Jim. ``And I knew it was right. Finally someone was saying, `You don't have to be trapped in it.' ''
   
So Jim began the therapy. He avoided his former haunts, although that wasn't easy. ``It took me eight months before I could drive by Sugarhouse Park.''
   
He started making efforts to mingle with every straight man he could find, and he joined Tom Pritt's baseball and basketball program for men who were struggling to change.
   
``I stood on second base and cried,'' Jim remembers. ``I could do it. And I was good, even though I was always told I couldn't be.''
   
Now, after 18 months of non-erotic relationships with other men, he says he notices a difference in himself.
   
``Every gay guy I knew longs for his International Male magazine,'' says Jim. ``When it used to come, I'd be in the middle of business and I'd have to stop and look at it. But last week one came to my office and I didn't have to look at it right away. And when I did, I realized that I was actually looking at the clothes. It's like total liberation.''
   
He says he is starting to feel attracted to women, although there is a tentativeness to his voice when he talks about it. It's a slow process, he says.
   
Those who find fault with the Evergreen approach are quick to point out that it ignores the latest research into the neurobiology of sexual orientation.
   
``The ultimate cause of sexual orientation has never been fully determined,'' notes Salt Lake psychiatrist Jan Stout. ``But most of the top investigators in the field believe that biological factors are extremely important.''
   
Stout, who in the early 1970s believed that homosexuality was a learned behavior that could be treated with therapy, had decided by the mid-1980s that that viewpoint was ``wrong and simplistic.''
   
Homosexuality is a result of a complex combination of environmental and biological causes, says Stout.
   
It is in the uterus, he says, that the brain begins to differentiate between male and female. In the embryo we all start out as female, until the point, in about half of us, when a Y chromosome begins to create male organs. After that, in males, the hormone testosterone creates further changes that will later lead to masculine behavior and sexual feelings.
   
But in some male embryos, less testosterone is produced, possibly because of maternal stress or certain drugs. Although animal studies cannot always be generalized to humans, says Stout, they have confirmed ``the crucial role'' that prenatal hormones play in later sex-role behavior.
    `
`I've treated hundreds of homosexuals,'' notes Stout. ``Some have the pattern of weakened father bonds, but not all by any means. . . . I think it's a case of putting the cart before the horse,'' he says about the theories of male bonding and homosexuality. ``They haven't been able to make good bonds with father because of the way they feel inside. It's the effect of the biology, not the other way around.''
   
A few people can maybe make changes that feel right to them, says Stout, but it's more a question of willpower and behavioral changes, rather than a real shift in sexual orientation. Because of this, he finds the theories potentially dangerous.
   
``You're going to have young people who read anecdotes about people who have changed, and they'll say, `What's wrong with me? I haven't been able to change.' You'll increase their sense of failure. And I think you'll see more suicides. That's my concern here. . . . We should accept people the way they are.''
   
That conflict between ``validating the self-worth of the individual'' vs. encouraging change, says Salt Lake clinical social worker LaDonna Moore, lies behind the decision of the Utah chapter of the National Association of Social Workers not to give continuing education credit for this weekend's conference. 
   
Moore objects to the conference brochure's characterization of homosexuality as a sickness. ``It's sad to see the complexity of human beings' emotional and sexual state reduced to `compulsive behavior.' ''
   
Because the mental-health profession as a whole no longer considers homosexuality a disorder, Moore feels that it is ``unethical'' for local therapists to participate in the Evergreen conference. Five Utah therapists _ four licensed clinical social workers, a psychiatrist and a psychologist _ are among the presenters at the Friday session, which is geared to health professionals. The Saturday session is open to the public.
   
A group of ``concerned citizens'' _ including some mental-health workers and members of the Salt Lake gay community _ will counter the Evergreen claims at a press conference on Friday.
   
Local gay activists find the conference, and the concepts behind it, offensive, says Rocky O'Donovan, director of the Gay and Lesbian Historical Society of Utah.
   
Not all gays want to change, he says, although there was a time, during high school, when he fasted and prayed to do just that. But now he says, ``If you put a pill, with no side effects, here on the table that would make me heterosexual, and next to it you put a $1,000 bill, I'd say, `Absolutely not.' ''
   
The real question, says O'Donovan, is not why some men are gay, or whether they should be, but how to best accept them if they are.
   
Human sexuality has never been as simple as the birds and the bees, and homosexuality is no less perplexing or charged with emotion now, after all the studies and books and talk shows and theories that have tried to understand it.
   
Is it possible to change a person's sexual orientation? The debate continues.
   
In the meantime Jim tells this story: He was jogging down the street not long ago when, all of a sudden, a feeling of ``completeness'' came over him.
  
``I feel now,'' he explains with a look of relief, ``that I have the same parts and the same capabilities that every man has.''
   
-For more information, call the Evergreen Foundation at 535-1658, or the Gay and Lesbian Community Council at 359-5555. The names of Evergreen members used in this article have been changed at their request.

Words: 1856


Saturday, July 16, 2011

sort of a retweet

I'm so glad a friend put a link to this on Facebook,  but if you're not on Facebook, I'm placing this here just for you:



Even though it's been viewed more than 155,000 times, if you haven't seen it I wouldn't want you to miss it. What do I think about it?  Here's what I said on FB: 

"Stunningly portrays the advance and retreat, betrayal and bonding, acceptance and rejection that are so common in the workplace, politics, religion and in our personal relationships..."

Friday, July 15, 2011

He didn't scream at me.

my stepdad didn't scream at me as a teenager
he saved his drunken outbursts for my mom
one night I considered bashing
in his skull with a hammer

I left home after high school
not to go on a mission but to escape him
after I got married, he got in to AA
got his 25 year pin

25 years of sobriety
then 26, 27, 28
I held his hand on his death bed
slowly we'd become friends over the decades

he was a dry drunk for a
long time but eventually mellowed
he even wrote some nice stuff about
me, my wife, our kids

I haven't written about
his abuse until now, but with
your story as a prompt, Chad
today I have started

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

More than Lunch

Old friend calls today
For a walk and talk and lunch
He feeds my soul well

His eyes glow with light
As he asks "howya doin'?
I lie to him "great"

I do not tell him
I love him, his smile, his scent
He might not like that



I love when he calls
For a walk and talk and lunch
He feeds my soul well


Inspired by Chad's missionary poem

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Not hungry? Just wait a while.

Beck jolted me out of my silence with his entry the Hunger that never goes away, and his question "Will it ever?" All of which prompted this reply:


Beck, my dear friend, do other hungers really ever go away?

You eat a Thanksgiving Feast and a few hours later, what do you want? More food. Another piece of pie. Maybe a cold turkey sandwich. (pun intended)

You attend the symphony or an engaging play or a great ball game. And what happens a few days or weeks or months later? You want more music, more drama, more sports.

You buy a fast new computer, or a new car, or a new suit. It's wonderful at first. Then in a while the computer doesn't seem all that fast any more. The car loses the new car smell. The new suit becomes just a suit. And eventually you hunger again for new technology or attire.

At least I do. So...

Just when I think I've accepted my MOM relationship, I find there's some new wrinkle, or some old one that returns.

Just when I think, I've got it pretty good, something comes along to show me that while I am blessed, I am also greatly challenged.

Just when I think I can swim fluently, I don't breathe right on a flip turn and a little water goes up my nose.

So yes, I relate to your hunger that never goes away. I feel it too. I do an innocent online chat with an old buddy, and pretty soon all I can think about is being in his arms.

But I also realize that most everything in life ebbs and flows. The rain--I hope, I pray, I imagine--will eventually give way to sunshine. Hey I live in Salt Lake not Seattle. And then after a while it will be too hot and I'll long for cool rainy days like today.

I have no answers. But I'm grateful for the way you pose questions. And I'm grateful for your friendship. Maybe our satisfaction in life relates more to the challenge of asking unanswerable questions rather than ease of finding questionable answers.

What do you think, Beck?